Incongruity
by Felice09
Summary: Albus Potter had designs to befriend the friendless Scorpius Malfoy, and in heedlessly pursuing such a friendship, he becomes aware of the cruelty that blights the passive boy. AS/S


**Incongruity**

Al's initial assessment was that Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was a quiet boy. Quiet, not shy. This was evident from that first day on the train, up til the Easter holidays when Scorpius left Hogwarts and never came back. Al remembered only a few brief snatches of conversation they shared in potions. Several glimpses of his shocking white blonde head, his gaze fixed to the floor as he walked alone from class to class.

Al knew he must have been teased.

Rose was already fiercely competitive with the studious blonde, dancing with delight if she beat him in a test and scowling bitterly at him if his marks should top hers. Al recalled the blonde taking it all in his stride, patiently listening to Rose's scathing diatribe should her marks come lower than his and coolly dismissing her death threats with a distant glare, turning away from her without saying a word.

He was quiet, but he didn't shy away from Rose's fury. He looked directly into Rose's eyes and expressed nothing of emotion. No fear, no anger, just a passive display of eye contact, as if her rages bored him. And he didn't reply. His response to her intent questioning, her raucous tantrums and her constant niggling was to ignore her and walk away.

As far as Al knew, Scorpius only ever said four words to Rose, and he only just heard them, so slight was his reaction. He received his test back and had scored 100% on a particularly difficult Transfiguration exam. With a barely susceptible smile he peered at Rose's 97% and murmured, so softly it may have been to himself "Better luck next time".

Rose was furious, and fully intended to slap him in the corridor after class when Professor McGuintie's back was turned, her famous Weasley temper fuelling her outrage. Al sat next to her and listened to her whispered rants for the rest of the lesson, his eyes darting every so often to the blonde head at the back of the classroom.

Scorpius sat with his head resting in his hands for the entire lesson, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular at some space between the desk and the floor, every so often his pen would fly across his paper noting the professor's words, the only indicator that he was listening. He was like this in every class, barely interacting any more than was necessary. Al found it fascinating that Scorpius got away with it, but he knew that the teacher's didn't like Scorpius very much, his 100% was only a testament to his infallible performance on the test, as most teachers treated the Slytherin boy with disdain and disregard.

Actually, most students treated him like that too, and when Rose disappeared after class Al panicked that when he saw the blonde tomorrow he would be wearing a black eye, courtesy of his fiery friend. When Rose returned to the common room later that day, Al rushed up to her to ask her what she did. She said nothing for a full half hour, staring vacantly into the fire as Al questioned her relentlessly. Al remembered the sadness in her eyes as she eventually cracked and told Al of the horrible things she saw.

"He was walking down the corridor Al, and I was going to say something to him, I was going to stop him and confront him about the test, and what he said." Rose's voice faltered. "And then it was like he disappeared around the corridor. It happened so fast, so I crept over to take a look and they all had their wands out, and they were going to hex him, and threatening worse, and he just stood there, Al! And they said 'How did you hex the teacher into believing that? 100%?' and they said 'We don't tolerate Death Eaters in our school, scum. Do you want another tattoo, it'll only hurt a bit' and so many horrible things to him Al. And he said 'No thank you. If you'll excuse me I have to be somewhere.' As calm as can be, never mind that they had their wands pressed to his throat. And then they slammed him into the wall, and I could hear the big one say 'Much too pretty for such an ugly tattoo' and then I couldn't watch anymore, Al. And he shut his eyes and sort of glared at the boys but he didn't say anything, he didn't fight back, and they all grabbed him, and he made sort of a crying noise. I ran Al. I ran away and left him there. I should have helped him, I didn't do anything. I only watched until I couldn't watch any longer. And I tried to go back to him afterwards but I didn't know where he went. I couldn't find him anywhere. I could have least performed some healing spells or something! Oh Al, I feel horrible." And Rose then cried for the rest of the hour, telling Al the whole terrible story.

Al's heart wrenched for them both, but more than anything, he thought of the quiet Slytherin boy who hadn't fought back.

* * *

He was eager to see the boy in potions the next morning, but on some level he was also dreading it. Al's hopes plummeted when he arrived to the class. Scorpius wasn't there, the rest of the Slytherins, present and accounted for, had nothing to say about the boy's whereabouts. Al's morose expression did not go unnoticed. Rose leaned over to Al's table and murmured words of reassurance.

"It's ok if he's not here. He might be in the hospital wing, or sleeping. He might have gone home. We can't think the worst Al, no one dies at Hogwarts."

Al scoffed. "Tell that to the last two headmasters."

Al spent the first half of the lesson worrying about the absent Malfoy. Thanks to Rose's melancholy reassurance he now had grimmer designs running through his head of what might have happened to the boy, each scenario more macabre than the last.

This is why Al's heart practically jumped for joy when the quiet blonde finally walked into the classroom. His pale skin was covered with deep healing bandages, his left arm was slung in a cast, and Al noticed a couple of bruises on the soft pale skin of the boy's neck and wrists.

"Sorry I'm late Ms. Edgecombe." Scorpius muttered, looking at the teacher's shoes as he spoke.

"By thirty five minutes. Not acceptable Mr Malfoy, six points from Slytherin." Tutted the middle aged woman with a vindictive pleasure. The Slytherins in the class all groaned.

"Aw, good one Mal-freak."

"Hey, who did that to your face? I want to send them flowers. "

"Not acc-ept-able Mr Malfoy."

A couple of students stuck their legs out in the aisle trying to trip him up. Scorpius paused, holding his breath it seemed, and waited for them to move out of his way. He walked to his desk with his eyes firmly fixed to the floor, ignoring the catcalls. When he sat next to Albus, Al was slightly upset that he didn't look at him. He supposed that Scorpius didn't think Al would be any different from the rest of his classmates. What was that that Aunt Hermione said again, kids could be cruel? Apparently it was a muggle saying, as both Uncle Ron and Al's mum had never heard it before.

"Hey." Al asked the blonde tentatively, waiting for a reaction. It never came, as Scorpius ignored him. Al supposed it was because the boy was only used to insults.

Al continued to press for friendship, asking the boy again in a soft, non-threatening voice. "Are you ok?"

That got a reaction. Scorpius still didn't look at him, but Al saw the confused sloping of his eyebrows through the veil of milky blonde hair.

"Why are you hurt? Have you been to the Hospital Wing?" Al asked again, in a whisper this time, as Ms Edgecombe was lecturing the class on the properties of a bezoar.

Scorpius turned his head slightly to look at Al. His eyes reminded Al of the husky dogs at the park, or the silvery grey bark of the Yew tree in Al's yard at home. They managed to be bright and piercing, whilst retaining their dewy grey colour.

"Why are – "Scorpius began, the words sounded curious, but he frowned once again and chose not to finish his sentence.

"No go on. You can talk to me. I'm your friend. What were you saying?" Al pushed.

Scorpius looked blankly at Al's welcoming face. "You aren't my friend."

"Sure I am." Al replied brightly, his insatiable cheer bubbling through.

"Since when?" Scorpius asked, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. He wasn't really smiling; Al could just tell that the smile was there though.

"We can be friends." Al smiled again, trying to warm the demeanour of the frosty blonde.

"Not likely." Scorpius raised his pale brows and turned back to his notebook, jotting down snippets of information about bezoars.

"Why not?" Al frowned.

The look that Scorpius gave him then was the closest Al had seen to visible emotion. The boy looked irritated, as if Al was missing a painfully obvious reason why not.

"What's stopping us from being friends?" Al asked again. "Do you want to hang out with me?"

"No." The blonde said, looking back to his notes. Al frowned. Things didn't match up. Why, for example, would Scorpius sound so sad if he didn't want friends? He didn't hang out with anyone else.

_I bet deep down he really does want friends_. Al thought hopefully.

"Well I'll hang out with you then." Al decided stubbornly. "Want to eat lunch with me and Rose? We've found this really nice place by the edge of the forbidden forest where the trees sort of curve inwards and the sun is really bright –"

"Didn't you hear me? I don't want to hang out with you." Scorpius muttered, frowning again as he examined his notes.

"But I want to hang out with you." Al pouted.

"Why? You pity me? You're curious? You think it will be funny? I'm not interested." Scorpius said slightly more firm, in his quiet elegant voice. It sounded clipped. Prim and proper, like he had been brought up with finishing schools and elocution lessons. Al's voice sounded common and childish in comparison.

"I'm not going to be mean to you." Al said quietly, upset at the blonde boy's abrupt rejection. "Rose wants to be friends with you too. She thinks you are interesting. I suppose she already counts you as a friend, in her own way."

"She doesn't. You're making things up, and I've already said I'm not interested. I have things to do."

"What things?"

"School things."

"I don't even have school things. What do you have that I don't?"

The shrill bark of Professor Edgecombe resounded from the front of the classroom. "Malfoy! Pay attention. Don't distract Mr Potter."

"He wasn't distracting me Miss." Al announced. It wasn't in his nature to let someone else get in trouble when it was his fault. Scorpius just stared at him, as if he were astonished that Al would even think to do such a thing. "We were just talking."

"Talking?" Ms Edgecombe looked suspicious, then worried. "Is everything alright Mr Potter? You can move seats if you want."

Al was confounded. "Move seats? Why?"

"Well, you're not – what I mean to say is, Malfoy isn't giving you any trouble, is he Mr Potter?" Ms Edgecombe's voice was the incredulous voice of a concerned adult, but there were definite undertones of a hopeful viciousness beneath it all. Whether it would end favourably or not Ms Edgecombe looked eager to witness whatever feud would unfold between the next generation of Potter and Malfoy, as from what she remembered from her school days, the two boys had a particularly volatile nature. Whatever juicy bit of gossip emerged from the perceived trouble was the main incentive for Ms Edgecombe's asking.

"Oh, no trouble at all Miss. Scorpius and I are friends, see?" Al smiled winsomely and leaned close to Scorpius, roping his hand around the Slytherin's shoulder. Scorpius pushed feebly against Al's arm, trying to extricate himself from the half hug.

"What do you think you're doing?" Scorpius hissed at Al, his whispered voice carrying a hint of panic.

"I'm showing that I'm your friend." Al said stubbornly.

"By committing social suicide? Let go and make like you hate me!"

Al laughed, a loud sound that rang throughout the classroom.

"He's such a joker. My buddy Scorpius."

By now Al had drawn the attention of the entire class. They all circled like vultures whenever an opportunity arose to belittle the young Malfoy heir. To see that for once it wasn't so puzzled them.

"What are you talking about Al?"

"Are you alright? Has he confounded you?"

"He's confounded Al. The Death Eater's brat has confounded Harry Potter's son!"

Scorpius shrunk further into his seat, making himself as small as possible. He covered his face with his right hand, his left dangled limply in his cast. Al could see he wasn't blushing. It wasn't embarrassment. It was a method of survival. A strategic manipulation of body language to reduce the possibility of injury.

"He hasn't confounded me, and he isn't a Death Eater. Stop it you guys, you aren't being very nice." Al frowned tenaciously and delivered fierce eye contact to everyone in the room, reproaching them with his glare.

"Being very nice?" A boy called Lewis in the seat next to Rose repeated sarcastically. "Why should we be nice to the little Mal-freak? After all, when were the Malfoy's ever 'very nice'?"

"Shut your stupid face, Lewis!" Rose scowled and shoved the cynical boy in the arm. "Bit rich coming from you, isn't it? You've never been nice your entire life. I'm surprised you know the word at all, big head."

"It means I've got lots of brains, that all." Lewis protested, covering his head with his hands. He did have an abnormally large head.

Ms Edgecombe saw now as a good time to intervene.

"That's enough children! Rose Weasley, I'll have none of this name calling from you. Detention. You too Mr Potter and Mr Malfoy. For disrupting my class. See me after the lesson."

"But Miss!" Rose protested. "You can't call me up on name calling. What about Lewis? Or Marco? They were calling Scorpius 'Mal-freak'!"

"He is a freak." Lewis muttered loudly enough for the class to hear.

"Then the detention will be for talking back to the teacher, and that is that Miss Weasley. I want no further comment."

"But Miss -!"

"Enough. I want all of you to turn to page seventy in your textbooks and copy out the passage on the uses of bezoars _in silence_. And no more talking Albus. That is what silence means."

Al was grumbling as he opened his textbook. "I know what silence means."

Regardless of how unfair the punishment was, the class all copied their notes and did not utter one syllable while doing so.

Scorpius had already copied out the passage from the textbook two weeks ago and had already annotated and highlighted it with extra information he found in his research. With nothing to do, but no desire to draw attention to himself, Scorpius leisurely worked on sketching a half-finished picture of a landscape on a page in his notebook. He had done the shading on the first two trees and their inward sloping branches when a folded piece of parchment fell on top of his notes.

**Hey Scorpius**, it read.

**Sorry about the detention. I didn't mean for that to happen. But at least now I know what you'll be doing this afternoon! ****Since we'll be chatting in detention anyway, why don't you have lunch with me and Rose? I told you she would be your friend. Did you see how she slapped Lewis? Oh, and by the way, what happened to your arm? I won't stop asking until I get an answer.**

**Al**

Scorpius sighed and shook his head slightly at the paper. He looked sideways at the dark haired boy beside him to see he was staring expectantly back at him, and smiled widely when Scorpius turned and caught his eye. Scorpius frowned and quickly turned away, looking back to his paper. Al saw him push aside the note and get back to drawing his landscape. Far from discouraged, Al scrawled another note.

**I can see you push away my paper. Write something back to me. Tell me what happened. And what are you drawing anyway? It looks really cool.**

Scorpius frowned at the note and gave Al another sideways glance. His look seemed to say "Now?" as if now was a bad time. Al just smiled and nodded. Scorpius looked covertly to the front of the room, taking in Ms Edgecombe's relaxed posture. She didn't seem to see their interaction and was doing the Witches Weekly crossword under her desk. Taking that into account, Scorpius wrote a reply.

Al was positively humming with anticipation. He was befriending the friendless Scorpius Malfoy, who Al had always considered something of a mystery. When he first saw him at the train station his dad seemed to know him, and took an unusual interest in the boy, surveying him from the corner of his eye as he bade his father farewell and alighted onto the train.

Al hastily opened the carefully folded note as it was passed back to him.

_My answer as to what happened to my arm is that I'd rather not answer. My answer to your invitation to lunch is to decline, as you landed me in trouble and got me another detention. How considerate of you. And my answer as to what I am drawing is that I am drawing nothing in particular. I can't imagine setting out to draw with a pre-planned image in mind, as that negates the point of art, that something comes from nothing, and if that something already exists then you are merely repeating what has happened in the world. Something I aim to avoid. _

At the bottom of the image was a cartoonish sketch of a boy with messy dark hair, which could be clearly seen as Al, reading a note with a comical expression of delight on his face. The sketch was actually rather sophisticated, the expressions divulged by a few well placed inky black lines, the rendering of clothing, light, bone structure, hair, creases and every little detail imaginable was depicted. Al was as delighted as his cartoon self was, and astonished that Scorpius could produce such an impressive sketch in such a short time. Al learnt a lot from the body of the text too, and several things about Scorpius Malfoy clicked into place for Al. He wrote back.

**That sketch was incredible! How did you learn to draw like that? And when did you start practising drawing. You have a natural talent for it. I suck at drawing. I'm no good at all. **

**Oh, and those weren't answers. Those were just vague statements. Your little rant about art told me more about you than your answers did. Try again and give me a better answer. And I said I was sorry about the detention. You can hold me to blame for that, but don't blame poor lunchy. Lunchy wants to see you so much! You'd do good to accept lunchy's invitation. ****Will you be seeing lunchy?**

Al saw Scorpius read the note and he made a small noise, like an intake of breath that was a miniature snort. He found Al's letter funny. Al received the paper back folded neatly, and when he opened the letter Scorpius's flowing writing graced the page, again with another picture.

_You're rather childish, aren't you? Are you sure we're the same age? Sitting next to you makes me feel like I'm babysitting my lab partner. It's not a question of being a good or bad drawer. All art is good, if it was made with care. Bad art is only ever bad when someone tells you it is. Practise doesn't hurt though, if you aim for realism. And you're right. I can't hold you responsible for my detention, and I don't. I will, however, hold you responsible for my missing evening. Tonight was my only free night, and now I'll be spending that time with you. To make it up to me, you can promise me an evening without you bothering me. That sounds nice, don't you think?_

The picture was one of Scorpius this time, and he had drawn himself alone at a desk, moonlight shining through the window onto the face of the illustrated boy, who looked out the window, his chin resting in his hand, an expression of vague happiness gracing his accurately drawn persona. A small sign on the wall declared the space in the picture an "Albus Potter free zone". Al snickered. It was almost like a joke from the quiet blonde. Al knew there was a sense of humour behind those deadpan eyes, albeit a dry and sarcastic one.

Al flipped the paper over, ready to write his response, but it was suddenly whisked out of his hands by the blonde boy next to him. Al only just caught Scorpius tapping the paper with his wand before Ms Edgecombe swooped over and scooped the paper up.

"What is this, Mr Malfoy? Passing notes in my class is not acceptable." Ms Edgecombe smiled determinately at Scorpius, who remained passive, looking at his page full of highlighted notes with a marked disinterest. She hadn't even looked at the page yet, Al fumed. She was just looking for a reason, an excuse to pick on the Malfoy heir. She gave a cursory glance at the paper.

"Oh, it's a forest." She said surprised. The vindictive look slid off her face and was replaced by one of awe and appreciation. She held the paper closer, studying the image as if it were her Witches Weekly crossword. She saw great value in art; it was one of her private passions.

Realising what Scorpius had done, Al sighed with relief. He had used a switching spell on the paper so their letter was now plastered in his notebook, and the beautifully rendered sketch of the inward curving trees now graced the paper Ms Edgecombe held in her manicured hands.

It was a shame really. Scorpius probably knew he wouldn't get his beautiful sketch back, sacrificing it for Al's sake, a thought that made Al swell with hope that Scorpius would be his friend. The forest picture had been crafted with more care than the notes though. It was extremely intricate, and Scorpius must have been working on it for quite some time.

"This – this is ..." Ms Edgecombe stuttered, looking from the parchment, back down to the young Malfoy, who raised his head to meet her startled gaze. Ms Edgecombe did not remember a time when the young blonde had ever looked at her directly, she assumed his disdain for her was the reason he never met her eye. Looking down at him now, Ms Edgecombe was met by intensely bright, large silvery eyes. Eyes that looked at her with only a polite curiosity, an openly blank expression. One that told her that the boy did not care one jot what she thought of him, that he did not secretly hate her for all the punishments she set the poor boy, rather he accepted them with a tolerance that few had shown him.

Looking at the wide piercing eyes Ms Edgecombe also realised that the blonde artistic Malfoy in front of her was just a child, and not the Malfoy she knew in school, the one who teased her spotty face, and who made her cry without even trying.

Blinking back her shock, she handed the paper shakily back to the blonde, who reached up to claim it with his uninjured right hand. The rest of his body was injured. A child was injured like this, and she hadn't batted an eyelid. Marietta Edgecombe felt terrible.

"Hospital wing, Mr Malfoy. You should go to the hospital wing. Now." She said, the shock evident in her voice.

It was like she hadn't noticed the boy's injuries at all. There were bruises on his neck, on his wrists. Someone had clearly been hurting the boy, had been holding him down. The flash of the deep healing bandages poked out from the collar of the Malfoy boy's shirt, administered for only powerful magical injuries. And his left arm. The boy had been drawing that glorious picture with his right because his left arm was in a cast. Injuries at Hogwarts didn't require casts. Unless something was very badly broken.

"Hospital wing." She repeated. "Now."

"Ah." The pale boy replied in a soft and quiet voice. "I have already been to the hospital wing, Professor. They told me to go to class."

"Probably didn't want you there."Someone jeered, capitalizing on another opportunity to assert themselves over the passive Malfoy.

"Yeah, go back to the hospital, Mal-freak. There's obviously something wrong with you." Another shouted, inciting cruel barks of laughter from the row of boys in the back.

Scorpius wore a bored look, as if he weren't listening to the vindictive comments, or he'd heard it all before.

"Too bad they can't cure Death Eater germs." The big-headed Lewis added with a smug grin.

"Well, they obviously can't cure you, big-head." Rosie scowled, her temper flaring as bright as her hair. Al felt a momentary surge of pride for his cousin.

"You are in no fit state to attend class Mr Malfoy. I insist you go to the hospital wing!" Ms Edgecombe said, her voice verging on hysterical.

"I don't need to really." Scorpius protested in that quiet clipped voice of his.

"I'll take him Miss!" Al put up his hand, declaring his intentions dramatically, as he was prone to do. Al was a dramatic person. Rose often said it was part of his charm. He was already on his feet and scooped up the blonde's books into his leather book bag on the bench beside him.

"No, it's really not necessary." Scorpius held his right hand out, a futile gesture to stop Albus' inexorable progress.

Ms Edgecombe surveyed Albus Potter, taking his earlier insistence that the boys were friends at face value. Albus was usually a very straightforward child with anything he set out to do. If he decided to befriend the alienated Malfoy boy, then it was highly likely he would not stop until the two of them were strolling off into the sunset together, in a best-friends-forever way.

"Alright, Albus, you take Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing. I will give you a note. See that he is properly healed." Ms Edgecombe flicked her wand and her Quick-Quotes-Quill was already up and scurrying across a page on her desk. She paced to the front of the classroom, her high heels clopping against the stone floor as she went.

Al swung Scorpius's bag over his shoulder with his own. "Come on." Al said with a beaming smile.

"You don't – I can carry that – you –"Scorpius wavered, panicking a little at the wave of attention he was receiving. The entire class was watching him, something he tried to avoid. The teacher was sending him away for some reason, and Albus Potter was insisting on carrying his school bag. His arm was broken, he wasn't an invalid.

"Come on." Al repeated, laughing a little at the shocked expression on the blonde's face. He wasn't too happy about all the attention he was receiving. Al thought it odd. He loved attention.

Al pulled Scorpius up from his desk, holding his right hand gleefully, taking care not to jostle his left. The injured boy was dragged haplessly to the front desk of the room, a pink blush creeping over his features now. He wasn't embarrassed before when people were mocking and teasing him. Al supposed it was the opposite that affected him, and maybe he wasn't used to people looking out for him. Well, Al wouldn't have that.

"Here you are Albus. Take that to Healer Smith and tell him if he doesn't follow it to the letter I'll gut him." Ms Edgecombe added with a secretive wink that Al mirrored. It only seemed to surprise the young Malfoy boy, if the widened gaze of his eyes was anything to go by. The rest of his face, his posture and his attitude seemed remarkably passive.

Al waved gleefully to his other friends in the room, parchment in hand. "Bye guys! I'll see you at lunch!" Tugging Scorpius in his other hand, he pulled him out of the room. The blonde wore a defeatist expression, resigning himself to the hyperactive Gryffindor's tending.

"What's got into Al all of a sudden?" Students in the classroom muttered conspiratorially to one another. Ms Edgecombe sat back at her desk with a relieved sigh, her good deed of the day done.

"I still think he's been confounded." Marco DiMico mumbled to the other Gryffindor boys.

"But how'd he confound the teacher. That's hardcore, that is." Lewis joined in the muttering.

"You wish you were hardcore." Rosie grumbled.

"I bet that's the first trick they teach them. How to convince everyone you didn't do anything wrong. That's what his dad's been doing." Dominic, the leader in the crusade against children of Death Eaters stated.

Dominic's father was an Auror in charge of the hunt for rogue Death Eaters and his prejudice seeped into his son. He bullied Scorpius prolifically, and had done since his first day on the train. He had amassed a posse of easily influenced children to form his own group of secretly militant junior-Aurors.

"Yeah?" One of his sycophants breathed intently.

"That's why he's still got his job in the ministry, and his nice house an' all. An' now he's teaching his son to do it too. He's sinking his hooks into Al, cause he knows he's got an alibi if he's friends with Harry Potter's son..." Dominic trailed off in a sinister fashion.

"We can't let that happen." Jacqueline Rogers simpered dramatically, endearing herself to the popular Gryffindor.

"Al's too trusting. We have to protect him from the likes of Mal-freak." Dominic declared.

"You don't know a thing about Al!" Rose protested indignantly. "Or Scorpius! What has he ever done to you?"

"Well, it's more the fact he exists, you know." Dominic drawled indulgently. "And if I remember, you hated him just as much as we all do. Perhaps you've been confounded too."

"I have not been confounded." Rose replied hotly.

"Ah, but you'd say that, wouldn't you, if you've been properly confounded." Jacqueline squealed zealously.

"I'm not confounded!" Rose shrieked.

"Sure you're not." Dominic grinned lazily. "Maybe Weasley just has a thing for the blonde, silent, evil type, eh Rose?"

"He isn't evil. When have you ever seen him fight back, even once? You're the evil ones." She scowled, crossing her arms and turning around in her seat to face the front, the teacher smiling sublimely as she finished her crossword, heedless of the conversation abounding.

"Rosie's got a crush." Dominic sneered. "Got a crush on the Mal-freak."

"You're so immature Dominic." Rose huffed, picking up her quill and scratching more notes onto her parchment.

"That's not a 'no-way' Rose. You're supposed to say 'no-way'." Dominic warned the red haired girl, his voice cautious.

"Go away." She replied.

Ms Edgecombe chose now as the time to look up from her crossword. "Let's get back to quiet children. Bezoars, remember."

* * *

Dragging Scorpius through the dungeon corridors, Al couldn't keep the grin off his face. He was roaming the corridors in class time, and Scorpius Malfoy was roaming with him! Maybe not so voluntarily, but he was spending one on one time with Al.

"Can you stop skipping for one second? I swear, you'll break my other arm." Scorpius intoned miserably, altogether unimpressed with the Gryffindor's display of youthful exuberance.

Al reacted quickly, realising he was probably hurting his new friend, and that wouldn't do. "Ah, shoot, I'm sorry Scorpius!"

Scorpius treated Al to a reproachful glare.

"Scorpius." Al mused, ignoring the glare and rubbing his chin. He picked this habit up from his father. Al had none of the morning stubble his father had, but he still pretended, enjoying how grown-up he felt with the gesture. "Scorpius. Do you want a nickname?"

"No." The blonde frowned.

"But Scorpius is such a long name. Is there any way to shorten it?" Al wheedled.

"I like my name." Scorpius replied, the indignation barely audible in his soft voice. "It's the name my parents chose for me. It's traditional."

"What? To name your kids Scorpius?" Al puzzled briefly.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" Scorpius sent a swift glare at the cheery Gryffindor, who beamed widely at the insult. "Why are you smiling at me?"

"You're talking to me." Al replied, his crooked grin resembling his fathers.

"I'm insulting you. There's a difference."

"You aren't insulting me. I'm not insulted." Albus crossed his arms triumphantly.

"Why not? I just called you an idiot." Scorpius pointed out, his voice dull.

"I see it more as a term of endearment."

"You are an idiot."

"What you're really saying is 'Al, you are my friend and I luuurve you'." Al waggled his eyebrows in humour.

"I'm not saying that!"

"Oh, but that's what I heard."

"You have selective hearing then. That's not what I said."

"Not even just a little bit?"

"No."

Al rounded to face the blonde and stood firm in the middle of the corridor, his arms crossed over his chest, standing like a totemic hallway guardian.

"Why?"

The blonde blinked, his brow furrowed. Again he seemed to think there was an obvious reason why he and Al shouldn't relate.

"Why won't you be my friend?" Al repeated his question, unhappy with rejection.

Al saw no reason for the blonde to reject him. Al was nice, he was funny, he was a good listener, he was good at magic, he had a nice house and family that he intended the blonde to meet, to be integrated into the family as one of Al's nearest and dearest. Unbeknownst to Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, Al had already planned out their friendship, sprouting from their youthful interactions, all the way to them getting a job together and working together as adults, to sipping tea together in an old age wizarding retirement home, discussing the Quidditch and the early days when their friendship was cultivated. It would be fair to call Al an idealist. He had no intention of disallowing his imagined friendship to filter from reality. He wanted to be friends with the quiet blonde boy. He had held out his hand, and he had no intentions to be left hanging there.

"I have my reasons." The blonde muttered, and pulled out his wand, aiming it at Al. Al stared blankly in shock. "Give me my bag back."

"I wanted to carry it for you, to the hospital wing." Al stuttered, his eyes wide in confusion.

"I'm not going to the hospital wing. Healer Smith doesn't want to see me, and I've no intention of letting him anywhere near my injuries. I hate him and he hates me."

"Healer Smith hates everyone." Al snorted. "Anyway, you must have had him heal you in the first place if you already went to the hospital wing."

Scorpius shifted guiltily on his feet.

"You haven't been!" Al exclaimed, completely forgetting the wand trained on him, he walked up to the Slytherin and held out his arms. "But how were you healed? The bandages?"

"I healed myself. Now give me my bag back."

"You healed yourself? But – that's really dangerous! You should at least have someone checking for you, and how do you know the right healing spells? We haven't got that far in class."

"I'm advanced. Give back the bag, I am not going to the hospital wing." Scorpius sneered, and held his hand out imperiously, his wand held in the hand he had wrapped in a sling.

Al studied the hand for a moment, hesitated, then clutched onto the hand with his own and started pulling Scorpius to the hospital wing.

"Stop! I said I don't want to go!" Scorpius protested in a firm but quiet voice as he was once again towed through the corridors by Albus Potter.

"I'm not going to leave you – sick – and injured without getting you healed. Are you crazy? The bones could set wrong!"

"I'm not sick."

Al turned to face the blonde, an impatient disbelieving expression on his youthful face. This expression he learnt from his mum, whenever his dad arrived home from work injured in some way or another. He leaned forward and placed his hand on the pale skin of Scorpius's forehead.

"You've got a temperature. You are sick."

The blonde blushed and recoiled away from Al's steady hand. "I – you just have ... ridiculously freezing hands. I'm not –"

"I'll stay with you, and I won't let Healer Smith bully you. I'd say cold hands warm heart, but my hands are actually warm, and you're just denying a fever." Al stated pragmatically.

Scorpius blinked back at Al, his eyes were confused and hurt. He didn't seem to understand why Al was being so helpful.

"I'm your friend." Al said firmly. "Whether you acknowledge it or not. I'll look out for you."

"Why would you?" Scorpius frowned. So this was why he was so sceptical about Al's offer of friendship. Did he not get how interesting he was?

"Because I want to. Because I can." Al replied stubbornly.

"That's not a reason –" Scorpius began, denying Al his friendship again.

"Because you deserve friends. Because you're clever, and talented." Al ranted.

"I – I'm not –" Scorpius protested upon receiving each accolade, his cheeks blushing pink again.

"Because you are incredibly brave." Al said finally. "And I admire that."

Scorpius looked at Al, with the same strong stance, the same blaring eye contact, and a hint of hope creeping into his expression.

"Now come on." Al linked his arm through Scorpius's free arm, taking care not to jostle the sling. "We still have to get back to class for the end of the lesson. Miss wanted to see us."

Scorpius fell into step with the dark haired boy beside him, consumed in a whirlwind of thoughts as he stared at the floor once again. Al gave him a few sideways glances, but said nothing, silently praising the fact that he got the blonde to walk with him, without being hexed. Not that he thought Scorpius would hex him. He knew the boy was seemingly pacifist, but Al did not doubt that he knew what curses to throw, even if he didn't throw them.

Upon reaching the hospital wing, Al could feel the boy beside him recoil slightly, making him look smaller than he was. This was where Al needed to be strong for his friend, to support him.

"Healer Smith?" Al called out.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Potter junior. How is my presence demanded today then?" Smith drawled, his yellow blonde hair tucked up under a Healer's cap. He spun lazily from a bed in the back of the spacious room and paced to the front of the ward, pausing when he saw the Malfoy heir.

"Beat up the littlest Malfoy, did you?" He trailed a lazy grin over Al's indignant face. Scorpius merely raised his eyebrow at the Healer's apparent amusement.

"No, I didn't. But someone hurt him –"

Scorpius sighed and rolled his eyes at Al's dramatic tirade.

"-And it's your job to provide him with healing. I have a note from Ms Edgecombe for you."

Al delivered the note to Healer Smith, whose face lit up when he opened and read the note. He cleared his throat, as though it were blocked with something particularly nasty, and his cheeks swarmed with a red blush.

"Right. Hrrm. Well, littlest Malfoy. If you would come and sit on this bed over here please." Smith turned to the back room, attempting to hide his reddening cheeks as he went to fetch some medicine.

Al gave Scorpius an exhilarated look that seemed to say "See?" Scorpius rolled his eyes and went to sit reluctantly on the bed nearest to them.

"He's acting, you know, not so bad today." Al said with a tentative smile.

Scorpius glanced to the back room, and a sly look flitted across his face. "I wonder what the note said."

Al grinned in response to the brighter look that the blonde wore. Something was humorous to the Slytherin, another instance of his dry humour perhaps. Al was pleased he was seeing this side of the blonde. Perhaps he was the first student to do so.

Smith bustled back into the room with a chart and several potions, which he laid out on the side table. Looking over Scorpius, he frowned. "Someone's already done some healing I see."

"That was me." Scorpius said, his expression that carefully detached look of boredom again.

Smith's eyes rushed up to the boy's face and he smirked at the blonde. "Impressive." He murmured, then set about tending the injuries with renewed force.

"What did Ms Edgecombe's letter say?" Al asked suddenly, causing Healer Smith to splutter and blush, before turning a disdainful glare at the boy.

"None of your business Potter." He scowled, and went back to removing the cast from Scorpius's arm.

"You looked pretty surprised when you read the letter." Al continued sweetly. He didn't much like Healer Smith, and the way he referred to Albus as Potter, in a vindictive and overly nostalgic manner. People who forgot Al was not his dad tended to impart a bad first impression on the boy.

"Maybe I was surprised it was you two coming to visit. Did you ever think of that?" Smith replied snidely.

"Yes, and you seemed less flustered when you saw us before you read that letter." Al pointed out, with all a child's innocence. From the corner of his eye, Al saw Scorpius smile one of his smiles-that-weren't-a-smile. Of course Al was amusing, the thought warmed to boy to his crusade of friendship.

"Well, maybe I was surprised that she was asking me to help this one, did you ever think of that?" Smith jerked his head towards Scorpius, who winced as Smith jabbed his wand at one of the boy's scratches.

Al's face flared up with anger. "What's wrong with him? You should treat him like you do every other student."

"Well, maybe I've seen enough of his pretty face over the space of this term, and I'm sick of treating him." Smith said, a patronising sneer on his face. He looked at Scorpius who looked back, casually disaffected.

"But, you have to treat him!" Al protested.

"Don't tell me that Albus Potter. I know. The boy's like a magnet for injuries though. Do you have to be such a burden?" Smith peered questioningly at the blonde boy who seemed used to Smith's attitude.

"No answer." Smith sighed. "And you wonder why they beat him up."

"But, he doesn't say anything to provoke anyone. It's not his fault." Al stated vehemently.

"Sometimes saying nothing can be more of a provocation. He's already a target and it's his own fault if he does nothing to clear his reputation." Healer Smith directed his reply at Scorpius, sending significant messages between their eyes.

"Why Healer Smith. I'm too young to have a reputation." Scorpius said, the sarcasm audible in his usually deadpan voice. It seemed he had a slightly amicable relationship with the cantankerous healer. Al didn't know. He said he hated the healer. It seemed he didn't really. Maybe this was the same with their friendship, that Scorpius said they weren't friends, but really they were.

Smith tutted, and fetched a cupful of potion, handing it to Scorpius, sighing as he did so. "Fine. Be difficult. I won't be held responsible for pacifist teenagers and their idiotic decisions."

Scorpius merely accepted the potion and swallowed, a slight smirk gracing his passive features. Al frowned in confusion.

"So Potter. What made you choose to drag little Malfoy to me then?" Smith questioned casually while preparing more potions for Scorpius to drink.

"Oh. He's my new friend." Al replied, sounding pleased.

"Good luck with that." Smith muttered. He handed another potion to the blonde on the bed. "This one's disgusting, but you have to drink all of it."

Scorpius surveyed the cup with obvious distaste. "Internal bleeding elixir? That's going a bit far, don't you think?"

"What do you think?" Smith replied grimly, his eyes dusting over the many bruises that still decorated the boy.

Scorpius scowled and downed the potion, shuddering at the taste. Al decided to question the Healer, as he seemed to be more informed than the other teachers about the abuse Scorpius suffered.

"Healer Smith? Why do the teachers ignore it when Scorpius is hurt?"

Scorpius frowned at the dark haired boy, irritated at his fixation on how the others treated him. It seemed rather personal and invasive for someone who only just declared the two friends. Smith regarded Scorpius's frown and turned back to reply to Albus, deliberately aiming his message at the blonde as he explained.

"Good question Potter. They really shouldn't, but a lot of them are prejudiced, and they like to think there's no proof the other kids are actually hurting him."

Scorpius fidgeted in the bed and shrugged the sling off his shoulders.

"There's tonnes of proof. That's ridiculous." Al exclaimed.

"Yes. It is. There's no proof because each time someone asks him who hurt him he says nothing. And he thinks he's very smart." Smith continued in a patronising tone.

"It's called a pacifist oath, you philistine." Scorpius snapped.

"You can be pacifist and still point out who hit you." Smith retorted wearily, as if he had this argument many times before.

"What's the point? Is that where 'justice' intervenes?" Scorpius spat bitterly.

"Scorpius here believes there's no value in the justice system." Smith told Al in a voice verging on indignantly hysterical.

"What value is there in a system that acts like a vicious circle and exacerbates the original problem?" Scorpius sharply retorted.

"_You_ are exacerbating _your own_ problem by denying its existence!" Smith replied loudly. Al was astounded. Healer Smith was in a full blown argument with a first year. It was scandalous.

"I don't matter. Why should it matter to you what happens to me? Leave out of it, and ignore me like every other teacher." Scorpius crossed his arms and scowled.

"But they don't ignore you, do they. If they did, you wouldn't have detention every other night!"

"What I do of an evening is none of your business. Maybe I deserved the detentions."

"Maybe you didn't. If your mother heard you talking like this ..."

"You leave my mother out of this."

"Do you want me to tell her? To tell her how often you're getting bashed at school? Because I will, I'll go and I'll owl Astoria right away!"

"Don't give her more bad news." Scorpius flushed at the mention of his mother. "She doesn't need to know it. It would only upset her."

"Hmmm, and why's that?" Healer Smith mock thought. It seemed to Al that Healer Smith was a family friend of Scorpius's mother's. That explained their familiarity. Maybe not the arguments.

"Fine. I get it." Scorpius raised his voice petulantly. "I'll be more defensive, alright?"

"It's a start, but it's not alright." Smith nodded approvingly. Then, realising Al was still there, he turned to him slowly.

"Potter. Do I have to obliviate you?"

"What? No! No." Al protested.

"Good. What transpired between myself and Malfoy is to remain a secret, understand? I imagine he wasn't too keen to see me today, anticipating a row like that."

"No, he wasn't keen sir." Al replied, looking slyly to Scorpius, who seemed shocked to realise Al was still there.

"Well. The nature of our argument regards personal matters for Mr Malfoy, and if I catch you spreading any of what we've discussed, or bullying him for it –"

"Zach –" Scorpius protested calmly.

"- then you'll be in one of these hospital beds. Permanently, you understand?"

"Zach! You can't threaten students." Scorpius frowned.

"That doesn't stop the other teachers." Healer Smith replied with a short shrug.

"Keep that up and I'll be the one telling on you." Scorpius said, humour lightening his voice.

"Spoilt brat." Smith snipped snidely back. Al thought he was acting more childish than the students.

"Hey, tell me when Marietta gets over her enforced dry spell." Scorpius replied, smirking deviously.

"As soon as you report back to her, fully healed." Smith grinned, and brandished his wand with a final flourish. "I think you're almost done too." Smith murmured a diagnostic charm and the smile fell from his face.

"Oh God." He muttered.

Scorpius turned to Albus. "You can leave now." He said imperiously. "You've done what Miss asked. You've delivered me to the hospital wing."

"But – are you alright?" Al faltered, disappointed that he was being sent away.

"I'm fine." Scorpius's eyes were intense as they channelled into Al's. "You should go."

"Will you eat lunch with me and Rosie?" Al asked timidly.

"I'll consider it." Scorpius replied. "Go."

Al looked nervously to the horrified expression on Healer Smith's face.

"He's right Potter. You should leave now. We're not quite done yet." His voice was thick and sinister.

"I – I'll just go then." Al stuttered and placed Scorpius's bag on the floor. He hastily raced out the door, and with a flick of Smith's wand they shut behind him. Al was curious. They had shut him out. What was going on? He leaned his head to the panelling of the hospital doors, listening in.

"It's not as bad as it looks like." That sounded like Scorpius's voice. Al was surprised he heard it at all, it was so quiet.

"Well, it looks pretty bad." Smith replied sternly. "If you already healed some of it I dread to think how they would have left you."

"I didn't want you to know."

"I would have found out anyway. Just how long did you think you could hide it for?"

"I was ashamed."

"You still think they don't deserve justice?"

"It doesn't matter."

"LIKE HELL IT DOESN'T! You can't let them do this to you! Geez Malfoy, this has gone too far."

Silence.

"Let's see it then." Smith said gruffly.

There was a rustling noise, then a sudden intake of breath.

"I'll fucking kill them." Smith growled. Al was shocked for a moment that a teacher was swearing, but he was more concerned with what he was swearing at.

"It's not worth it."

"Stop that. Don't you care at all?"

"I –"

"What about when they did this to you? You cared then, didn't you?"

"I – I shut off for most of it."

"Sure you did."

"Alright, I didn't ... But I'm not giving you names."

"God, Scorpius!"

"I didn't hit them back, I did nothing to provoke them!"

"Fuck!"

"I even told them to leave me alone, that I had somewhere else to be!"

A loud crashing sound met Al's ears on the other side of the door.

"I tried to run away. They paralysed me!"

"And then they got creative and did this to your fucking back. Any other injuries I should be aware of? Anything else you've hid from me?"

"Can you just heal it? I don't have enough bandages."

"I'm going to heal it. Answer the question. Is this the worst of it?"

"Yes."

"Don't lie. If they could carve 'Death Eater Scum' into your back, they could have done worse."

Al gasped and covered a hand over his mouth. He thought he was going to be sick. People had hurt Scorpius, they had carved – into his back! It was sick. How could he be so calm? That was barbaric. Was this what Rose had seen the other night?

"Can you get rid of it?" Al heard Scorpius ask in a quiet voice, devoid of emotion.

"I can."

"Good."

"Don't just brush this off, pal. This is serious. They could have killed you!"

"I don't think they meant to. The sixth years wouldn't let them."

"Sixth years were in on it too? That's it Scorpius. I'm going to the headmistress. I don't care what you say. Those bastards are going to pay. They can't do this and get away with it."

"No, no don't please! Please Uncle Zach! It's not important, really!"

"People didn't even do this shit in the war! This is depraved. It's not human."

"Please! Please, just heal me and let me forget about it. Please!"

"I'm calling McGonagall."

Al was aware of how watery his eyes were, and he wiped them on his sleeve. It sounded like Scorpius was crying in the other room. Al didn't blame him. If McGonagall really was coming Al would have to get back to the classroom. Roaming the halls was not acceptable, and Ms Edgecombe was probably waiting for him.

"Bye Scorpius." Al whispered hoarsely. So this was what prejudice was.

"Why won't you heal me, damnit!" Scorpius shrieked angrily at Healer Smith. Al heard the sound of porcelain breaking. He turned around and stumbled down the corridor, back to potions class. He knew that if he stayed to listen further, he would be pulled in deeper than he already had been.

In years to come, Al would marvel at how his innocence and optimism had been lost more fully that day than in any time after, and there were many times after. He didn't see Scorpius Malfoy by the inward sloping trees that day at lunch. He didn't see him at all until several days later, when Al was finally let into the hospital wing, and he met Scorpius's father.


End file.
